He smiles. “Exactly. They can find a wrinkly geezer to shove a speculum up there.”
“Hear, hear.”
Once Geoff and Yayoi arrive, the four of us are seated at one end of the eight-person U-shaped hibachi table, with four girls in their twenties on the other. The girls are dressed for a night out—glitter and sequins galore—and appear to have pre-gamed prior to dining.
Oh, to be young again.
At thirty-four, I’m practically ancient to them.
To make matters more entertaining, Asher sits closest to them, and they spend a few seconds whispering behind their hands while making eyes at him.
Yayoi and I exchange interested glances. Her straight ebony hair is shining in the low light, and crystals glitter at her ears. She’s dressed like she wants Geoff to drool, in a dress tight enough to flaunt every curve.
Since his arm is glued around her as he peruses his menu, I think it’s working.
“Which one do you think will hit on Ash?” she asks in a low voice behind her menu.
“All four,” I reply.
“Hey, y’all going out tonight?” asks the blonde at the end.
“I think we’ll see where the night takes us,” Asher says in that teasing tone of his, the one that reminds women he’s not only handsome, but charming, too. He throws in a grin for free. “You know what I mean?”
One of the middle ones—the only brunette—makes a come-hither face. “We’re going to a speakeasy.”
“Ooh. How risqué.” Asher’s smile turns coy, and all four girls turn into starry-eyed anime characters. “Is there a password to get in?”
Smug as can be, the one beside Asher says, “Yeah, but we know a guy.”
“Let me guess.” Asher clasps his hands on the table. “They ask what you’re doing, and you say,Goingto church.”
Their mouths drop. “How’d you know?”
“We’ve been there.” Asher looks at me. “Remember that? You drank like seven French 75s and I had to carry you home.”
“I remember,” Yayoi mutters next to me. “Their Negronis put me on my ass.”
I chuckle. “Idon’tremember that, but it sounds on brand for us.”
“Why don’t you come with?” says the blonde at the end. “Bring your... girlfriend?”
I pat Asher’s shoulder. “Oh, I’m not his girlfriend.”
“Here we go,” Geoff says in a low voice, staring at his menu.
Asher’s mouth tightens, and he turns back to the girls. “My girlfriend can’t—”
“He doesn’t have a girlfriend,” I say, thoroughly enjoying this.
Blonde in the middle goes a bit feral, and I want to laugh.I’m feeding him to a pack of wolves but watching him be lusted after is one of my favorite pastimes. The boy doesn’t do hookups, much to his own detriment, and observing the many ways he finds to wriggle out of women’s clutches is fascinating.
Asher has to be wined and dined. Cheap fucks are not on the menu.
We are so different.
I lean across him and mock-whisper to the girls, “Plus, he’s a doctor.”
“I’m going to kill you,” he mutters in my ear.
